


H0M357UCK

by mad_raine18



Category: Homestuck
Genre: reporter oc - Freeform, tw blood, wee bit gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:16:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_raine18/pseuds/mad_raine18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young man is given a dull reporting assignment. Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	H0M357UCK

H0M357UCK

Nick Strider was employed to a Mr. Anthos. His boss was a living stereotype. Mr. Anthos was a forty-something, overweight man stranded in a loveless marriage. Naturally, he used his underlings as living vents for his frustration. The man's entire being radiated opression and cigar smoke.  
Always was there a Cuban dangling precariously from his maw. A perpetual cloud of smoke curled around Nick's boss. It wrapped around Anthos like a well worn coat.  
Tali, the office harpy, was constantly bemoaning Mr. Anthos antipathy for the office regulations regarding indoor smoking. She pitched a fit over each new ashen burn in the once lush carpet. It had once been an ornate carpet, but, now was little more than a reddish gray minefield of cigar burns.  
The office itself was always enveloped in a haze. The haze was the byproduct of the smoke that billowed out from under Mr. Anthos' office door.  
Nick was currently located outside of said office, in the lobby. He was perched in one of the many velvet chairs. He always sat in this particular chair. Always. For no particular reason what so ever. He just always sat in the chair farthest from Mr. Anthos' office.  


Laura, the secretary, was clacking away at her keyboard. Occasionally, she would stop to play with a stray kinked curl. Laura was a woman- who at one point in her life had been very beautiful- but through either time, or, circumstance was now worn and aged. She was now someone's dowdy grandmother. 

Without warning, the vivid red door swung open. Nick considered this his summons and entered the smokey room. With a quiet smile for Laura- he closed the door and sealed himself in the abyss.  


Mr. Anthos was lounged behind his editorial desk. Many a hopeful writer had sat before that desk. Had had their stories and their articles murdered before their very eyes. Mr. Anthos didn't even spare Nick a glance, he merely grunted and shoved the folder over to Nick. It contained his next assignment. Nick retrieved the folder from the dreaded desk and made his way out.  


As he left the lobby, his eyes skimmed the first page. He was assigned to interview a young woman about all the ways she had helped her family during the past year. A simple fluff piece, something to grace the space between the front page and the comics.The world outside the red and gray office was very different. It was faster. You could feel time rushing past you in this city. The speed at which things happened here sometimes scared Nick.  


The Striders came from a long line of slow talking Texans. As such, they had also been slow to get with the times as well. Up to his uncle Dirk, the family home had be left relatively in the past. Then his father, Dave Strider, had gained ownership over the property and had the entire place modernized. Gone were the centuries old sconces and the lonely out house. In their place were high powered lights and a gleaming bathroom on each floor. But the lights somehow made the once cozy home, a sterile house. Hating the change in both his home and life, Nick had hoped the first bus to D.C. and three days later he was there. He hadn't looked back since.  


Brought back to the present by a blaring car horn, he quickly crossed the street to the Metro. After a short ride and a quick walk he reached the young woman's home. Roughly an hour later, he had nearly reached the end of the interview. Really the young woman was quite sweet and engaging but he was tired and honestly, he was bored.  


"I have one more question", Nick's eyes wandered over to the clock behind the young woman's head, 4:13.  


"I was given some of the text messages you and your family exchanged. I, among many, were surprized by the prolific misspellings."  


Before he began to read over the strange typos, he quickly scanned the page as though to prepare himself. He took a drink of the ice water she had so kindly provided for him. Slowly, he began to read.  


"IIsabelle help! II can't fiind my phone!!"  


"Wwanna hang out this wweekend?"  


The oddest he had saved for last,*"1F Y0U C4N R34D 7H15 17 M34N5 Y0UR BR41N W0RK5 R47H3R F457...0R Y0U R43D H0M357UCK."*  


"So, my question is; what is Homestuck?"  
"You want me to tell you about it," a raspy voice, even calling it a voice was flattery. The voice had emanated from the small woman in front of him. The young woman who was sitting between Nick and the door.  


"I-", Nick stopped in horror.  


The woman had started shuddering. Little flecks of her ivory skin began to fleck off. Little bits were scattering around her. A mottled gray was now showing. Her forehead began to bulge obscenely, and, with a meaty ripping sound two little horns erupted from her now gray flesh. Rich, purple blood flowed down her face. The worst part. The absolute worst part were her eyes. Until this moment, they had been squeezed close. After the horns had breached, they had flown open. Where they had once been a decadent chocolate, they were now purple. A purple as rich as the blood flowing down her face.  


Her purple irises were surrounded by rotten yellow. Her black lips slowly spread apart, revealing razor sharp teeth that protruded from that black hole. Her nails and hair had also darkened dramatically. Her claws, for that was what they now were, reached up and clutched his screaming face. He was silenced by the instinctual fear that all humans hide deep in our hearts. The fear that only rises to the surface when confronted with true monsters. 5l0wLY 7H3 M0N573R L34N3D F0RW4RD.  


"L47 M3 73LL Y0U 4B0U7 H0M3S7UCK."* 

Nick bounced out of the old brick home with a pep in his step that hadn't been there before. He'd gotten his article- better yet- he felt as though a void had been filled. He bounded down the sidewalk. Distractedly, he scratched at his arm. What did it matter that his tan skin flaked? What did it matter that gray was starting to show underneath? He simply couldn't wait to tell Mr. Anthos all about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I clearly do not own either Dirk Strider or Dave Strider but it was fun to have 'em for a bit.* I'm not entirely sure where that quote came from, if anyone does feel free to let me know so I can properly credit them. Overall thanks for trying my story!


End file.
